


Bentley

by Zeckarin



Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adam loves the Bentley, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale loves the Bentley, Because she's an adorable sweetpie, Bentley is a good girl, Crowley Loves the Bentley (Good Omens), Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), Ducks, EVERYONE loves the Bentley, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Humor, Post-Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens), Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Sentient Bentley (Good Omens), Sentient Bookshop, The Tartan Thermos from Bentley POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin
Summary: The story of the greatest car of all times, and her vision on our two boy's adventures, from the twenties to the end of the world... and beyond.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & The Bentley (Good Omens), The Bentley & Crowley (Good Omens), the Bentley & Adam
Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523585
Comments: 134
Kudos: 188





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I really love The Bentley.  
> I do. And I had to write her story^^  
> In my head, Bentley has a heart of gold, is very loyal, and loves Crowley more than anyone. She would gladly die for him (spoilers : she did !)  
> To me, she is just the perfect steed for Crowley.
> 
> Someone made art for Bentley and it's SO BEAUTIFUL!
> 
> Click here  to see the fan art that @doodle-machine made for this story! 
> 
> Doesn't work for me, so I'm posting the direct link here^^
> 
> https://doodle-machine.tumblr.com/post/621159453128015872/me-has-finals-to-do-also-me-this-was-a-good

June 1926.

The bookshop’s bell rang, and an annoyed voice yelled “We’re closed !”

Margaret grabbed the door-frame to catch her breath. She just wanted to get out of the clouds of dust that made her cough. Bloody librarian ! Why did he even open his shop if he wanted to be left alone ?

“Well you need to close your door, then ! I’m in, and I intend to stay !” she yelled back.

Nobody yelled at Margaret.

Footsteps echoed, and the voice came closer, a little less loud, a little more tense.

“Madam, the bookshop is closed, I am sorry to have to ask you to...”

A strange, white haired man stared at her in shock, then frowned. For a second, she thought he would yell again. She prepared to yell back.

“Oh, my poor dear ! You look so pale ! Come, come and take a seat, I will make you a nice cup of tea !”

The man leaded her to a comfortable armchair, and she was so surprised that she let him. He was talking to her like she was a child, and it should have been strange, but it seemed so right, even if Margaret was old enough to be his mother.

She accepted tea (and she hated tea) and she surprised herself when she started speaking. About her, about her life, about her work.

She talked about _everything_. And he listened, _really_ listened, and smiled, and had tears of compassion in his eyes when she talked about the war, and he touched her wrist and told her everything would be fine, and she believed him.

Her lungs weren’t hurting when she got out of the shop. And she felt happy. She hadn’t felt that happy since her husband died.

Margaret got back home, and got up the following morning to work. She still had a lot to do on her car.

Inside of her, deep down, an angel’s blessing was blooming.

Blessings have different ways of taking roots. Usually, they only work on the recipient, easing, warming and comforting. But in a true artist’s soul, blessing can grow and give life to something. Numerous paintings and sculptures are here to prove it.

Margaret was an artist. She just didn’t know it. Nobody did.

* * *

She woke up the ninth of June. It was a warm day, and Margaret was there. Margaret’s hands were her first memory. So soft, so loving, creating her from nowhere.

She didn’t know she was different, at first. She was there, and she was feeling, and it seemed natural.

But it wasn’t.

She tried to talk to the others, but nobody answered. She was alone, and spent long hours waiting every night, listening to silence. The others looked like her, all shiny and metallic. But none of them was talking.

During the day, Margaret always came. Every day, even the ones when nobody else was here. She only worked on her. Building her, piece by piece. And every day, the car was feeling a little more alive.

She was a car. She had heard other mechanics say it. A car. That was a nice name. But Margaret never called her that. She called her Baby.

“Hey Megs ! Wanna drink something ? It’s Stephen’s last day !”

“Coming, Dar, just gimme ten minutes” Margaret always yelled back. But she stayed at least an hour after that, every time. Because she loved Baby. She told her.

“See, Baby, I spend a lot of time here. I know I have to go, course I know. Boss wouldn’t let me stay anyway, not with my cough. But he promised me I could build one last car. He promised. So now, if I want to build you entirely by myself, he can’t argue, hey ? You’re my last car, and nobody else will finish you ! It’s been a year, and it will take at least one more, ha !”

Margaret smoked sometimes, sitting on the floor near Baby. Baby knew _everything_ about Margaret.

“Jason’s a good lad. He is. But he just can’t understand I don’t want to go live in the countryside with his family. I love them, Baby, I really do. But I’m not what they want me to be. They want to take care of me and offer me shawls and they expect me to sit by the fire and knit.”

Margaret talked about her family a lot. She had four grandchildren. That was a lot, she said. She talked about other mechanics, too. Some were still here, others were gone. Sometimes, she wouldn’t come for a few days, and Baby knew that she was coughing. But none of the other workers came to build her. She was only Margaret’s.

“I’m not a grandmother, Baby. Well, I am. But they don’t understand that I’m happy here. It would be easier to convince them without my cough...”

She was coughing a lot, thought Baby. But that wasn’t nice to judge people on their coughing.

When next June came, Baby wasn’t being built anymore. That wasn’t bothering her, Margaret always came, but she was working on things already done. Polishing, unscrewing and screwing again. She wanted Baby to be perfect.

One day of September, Boss came to talk. Baby knew him, he’d stroke her twice, saying she was beautiful. Baby liked Boss.

“Megs… you have to stop now.”

Margaret didn’t look at him.

“You promised I could build one last car, boss.”

“I did. And you did. You made your last car, Megs… it’s done.”

“Not the body, it isn’t.”

Boss touched Margaret’s shoulder.

“Megs. It’s done. You know it is. And you promised.”

Margaret stoked baby’s engine, and there were tears in her eyes.

“I’ve been here twelve years, boss...”

“I know. And you were one of my best workers.”

“I had to work when my husband had to fight. We all had to work, this entire place was full of bloody females ! And when the men came back they expected us to go home and cook for them and shut the hell up like nothing happened !”

“I know, Megs.”

Margaret shrugged to get rid of Boss’s comforting hands. Baby knew her husband never came back from France. France seemed an awful place.

“You’re sending me away cause I’m a bloody woman, that’s why ! You want to get rid of me, like the others !”

Boss didn’t yell back. He was a very calm and nice man, always polite. Baby liked him.

“Nobody wants that. You know it’s true, right ? You are sick, Megs. I don’t want to see you die here. You have to stop working and rest. Your son is very worried about you.”

Margaret nodded, still stroking Baby.

“I know, boss. I’ll go. But… sell Baby to someone that will love her, right ?”

“I will. I promise.”

Margaret didn’t come back. Baby waited. Nobody touched her, because the workers remembered. They called her “Megs’s car”.

Boss didn’t come back until years later. He sat near Baby and drank at a flask.

“She’s gone, Baby… her son sent me a letter. It was a nice letter.”

He stoked Baby’s engine, and she listened to him. She knew Margaret was gone. It was years ago. She had go to the countryside.

Four birthdays ago. She’d counted. She was five, that was a good number.

“I promised I’d sell you to someone that will love you, but truth is, Baby. It’s important, listen to me” asked Boss, whose voice was strangely blurred. “Truth is I won’t. I won’t sell you, ever. You’re her car. It would be wrong. You’ll stay here, girl. don’t you worry. I told them not to touch you. I made them sign on it. I have to leave you too, you see ? Do you see ? I have to sell the firm you understand ?”

He looked at her. She didn’t understand, but she tried to pretend.

“Don’t you worry for me, Baby. I’ll always come out on top.”

He patted her and got up.

She waited, and years passed. Baby started to think that maybe Margaret was not coming back.

She was eight now, and no one talked to her any more. Even the mechanics had forgotten about Margaret. Twice, someone asked what she was doing here. But nobody moved her.

Baby wanted to sleep and stop feeling things. Feeling was sad.

But she couldn’t. Other cars were always sleeping. She asked them how to do it, but of course they never answered.

And one day, Boss came back. He looked at her and stroke her with a strange smile.

“Told you I would come out on top, didn’t I, Baby ? I’m glad they kept you. I was a little worried, you see ?”

Baby was glad to see him again. He didn’t come often, but he talked to her. He took care of her for Margaret. She tried to think it was enough to be happy.

But the truth is, she remembered Margaret. She remembered love. She wanted to be loved again.

Then Father came, and everything changed.

Father was strange. He didn’t wear a charcoal suit, and he didn’t wear a greasy overall, so he was different from everyone she ever saw.

He was wearing black. And a flower on his jacket. And he had a funny hat. He was walking funny, too. At first, she wanted to laugh. She didn’t know he was Father yet.

Boss was with him. He showed him everything. Father looked with a small smile. He looked at other cars, the ones with smooth, shiny bodies. Baby didn’t have a body, but she didn’t care. Margaret made her that way, and there wasn’t shiny bodies there at the time. She was proud to be just the way she was.

The man in black suddenly stopped walking and talking and turned to Look at her.

And Baby, for the first time of her life, was seen.

The man tilted his head and smiled.

“Well, well… what is _that_ ?” he asked in a purr.

He approached Baby with a strange, lazy walk, and touched her delicately. She felt him reach for her, and she reached back. His smile widened.

“She is…”

 _A_ _live_ , he said silently. She heard him in her mind.

“… perfect” finished the man, looking at Boss. “I want that one.”

Boss smiled tightly.

“This car is not for sale, Mr. Crowley.”

But Mr. Crowley was not a man to give up.

“I want her. She’s the one. I want that one, no one else. I’ll pay any price.”

Boss looked at him. Then at Baby.

“Someone very special made that car.”

Crowley smirked “Yes, that’s kinda obvious.”

“She called her Baby. It was a joke, you see. Everybody calls me Babe. She wasn’t the most deferential employee. I promised her I would sell her car to someone that would cherish it.”

“I’ll take care of her all my life, and that’s something, believe me. Sell her to me...”

Crowley was purring now, his smile tempting, his voice like honey. Boss hesitated a moment.

“I will not sell it. But I will give it to you. You will have to pay for the body, though. I still have one from last year, if you want her soon.”

Father looked at her, and she felt love. Had she been able to cry, she would have.

“As soon as possible. Not leaving without her.”

And he waited.


	2. The Blitz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened during that "lift home" ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was VERY difficult to write ! I don't know why ! I spent a lot of time staring at my screen.  
> I hope next chapter will come easier :D

She had other names now. She was also Darling, Love, Sweetie, and Girl. When talking to people, Father called her My Bentley, and she loved that name. It was her favourite. Baby had been for Margaret. She decided she wasn't a baby anymore. She liked to think of herself as Bentley.

Father didn’t like people touching her.

He was special, just like her. He could do things no one else could. Father was a demon, that meant he was _bad_. He did lots of bad things, and Bentley helped him do them. They had great times together, and she was so happy.

There was only one thing that annoyed her. It was the Angel.

The Angel was _mean_. She wanted to hurt him, because he made Father sad. Sometimes, when Bentley and Father had a good time scaring people on the streets, the demon would stop smiling and slow down a little, and she knew he was thinking about the mean Angel. He talked about him a lot.

“That stupid angel ! I only asked for a little water, nothing more ! And what did he do ? He insulted me, Girl, that’s what he did ! Insulted me for asking nicely. _Fraternizing_ … that bloody hypocrite and his fucking righteous face… not talking to me… I can _fraternize_ too, you know ? I have tons of friends, me !”

She never saw the friends, but they must be other demons. Father got there sometimes. Down. He entered a normal building, but she always felt him go Down. She was worried he wouldn’t come back, but he always did. After some years, she stopped worrying.

The angel was a _bad_ friend. Refusing to give water to her poor Father. She didn’t like hearing her demon talk about him. The word “angel” was always followed by a loud roar of her engine. She wanted him to forget that bad angel and stop being sad.

“That’s right, Love ! That shitty angel ! We don’t like him, hey ? He’s a bloody bad friend, and he is stupid, and annoying, and not even good at surviving. Can’t even take care of himself in a tiny revolution... Honest, I don’t know why I put up with him for so long. Who needs an Arrangement, huh ? I’m the best demon in the universe. I don’t need help to foment !”

What angered her the most was Father’s heart. She was connected to it, and even when Father yelled insults at the absent angel, she felt his suffering. He didn't believe his own words. Every time he told her he hated the angel and never wanted to see him again, she knew he was lying.

And it made her sad. The angel was _mean_ , and she would _crush_ him someday.

She had been Father’s car for seven years when the demon had to go away.

“Gonna go to the continent for a while, girl. Got a commendation, and I have to see why.”

He didn’t look happy. She tried to reach out to him to cheer him up.

“I don’t like that. Commendations for works I didn’t do are never good news, Love. Never funny, these ones. Last two times were Spanish Inquisition and bloody Terror. Not funny at all…”

He sighed, picked up the ticket a policeman had put on her, and threw it on the pavement.

“Well, I should see anyway. Stay here and be nice, will you ? I’ll come back in a few days.”

She waited. She wondered where the continent was, and why she couldn’t go too, but she knew Father left her for a good reason. Father was always right. So she waited.

It took him three days to come back. He didn’t talk to her. He was very drunk, and she had to drive herself. She knew he only wanted to drive and didn't care about the destination, so she turned in the countryside, staying close to town for when her demon would be ready to go home. After a few hours, he took the wheel and started speaking.

“Humans… they’re the worst, Love. The things they do to each other… Even demons aren’t that...”

He stopped her and closed his eyes for long minutes. She thought he was asleep, and it surprised her when he talked again.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth something… Earth, these humans… I don’t even know why I bother.”

She was very concerned now. Father never was that sad. She had to do something, but didn’t know what… Hours stretched, and the demon was still sitting, not driving, looking into nothingness. Bentley started to feel afraid.

Then Father gasped and straightened brusquely.

“Shit ! That stupid, dumb jackass ! What is he _thinking_ ?”

He started her engine again and drove at full speed towards London.  
  


“Faster, Girl ! The angel is in trouble !”

She didn’t roar at the name this time. She was glad for the distraction. They drove through deserted streets and stopped before an old building.

“Of course, it’s a freakin’ church” moaned Father before getting out and heading toward the entrance.

She didn’t have to wait for long. There was a loud bang, and the building disappeared in smoke and fire. Bentley didn’t startle, because Father was not feeling afraid, so she shouldn't be either. A good car did not run away.

Her demon came back, and with him…

It was the first time someone else travelled in the passenger seat. She didn’t like it. Why was Father offering him a ride ? It was the angel ! The bad friend ! They should leave him on the street and never turn back !

But Father wanted him to come with them, so she let him open the door and step in. He paused a second and she felt him reach out to meet her.

“Oh…” he uttered softly, before getting in.

She made his seat as uncomfortable as possible. That was the least she could do. **** ~~~~

Bentley listened as Father drove in silence. The angel wriggled slightly, uneasy in the seat. It was fun. Then he spoke to the demon.

“You saved my books”

Father suddenly felt embarrassed.

“Not a big deal.”

“It is. You saved them for me, Crowley.”

“Well I didn’t save them for the bloody King.”

The angel looked out of the window. Bentley could feel his sorrow and his fear. He didn’t want to talk, she realised, but he felt like he had to.

“I will not give you Holy water.”

Father braked. He was not happy. Baby stopped. She hoped he would throw that damn angel out. But her demon didn’t look at Aziraphale, he stared at the road in fury, his hands crushing the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

“I didn’t save your fucking books to make you change your mind !”

She felt the angel’s irritation.

“I know that ! I know you didn’t ! I wouldn’t feel so guilty if you had !”

“Why, Aziraphale ? Why do you feel guilty ? I’m only asking for a little help, here. What’s so awful about giving a friend _water_ ? It wouldn’t even be a big miracle.”

Bentley roared in approbation and the angel grabbed the handle in fear.

_Ha ! She’d scared him !_

“Help ? Help for what ? This thing can _destroy_ you ! Forever, Crowley ! Friends are not supposed to give that kind of _help_ !”

_What ? Destroy ? What did that mean ? Since when could water destroy her demon ?_

“I don’t intend to use it on me, stupid !”

The angel snarled.

“Oh, yes, because nothing bad ever happens in this world without someone _intending_ to do it !”

“You’re making a fuss for no reason, Aziraphale ! I always helped you when you needed it ! Why won’t you help _me_ ?”

The angel stayed silent for a minute.

“You are right.”

“Of course I’m right. M’always right” mumbled father. He was not feeling very confident. Bentley understood that the angel was not usually eager to admit Father’s superiority in an argument. She was starting to wonder if the bad friend was really as awful as she thought.

“You would help me if I were in your place. You would procure me whatever… demonic thing I would ask.”

Father nodded.

“Yes. I would.”

“Even Hellfire ?”

Father’s fingers tensed even more on the wheel. He was yelling in his head, but kept it in and managed to answer calmly.

“You don’t need Hellfire.”

“Would you give me Hellfire if I was willing to use it for protection, then ?”

That was a trap, realised Crowley and Bentley at the same time. Father opened his mouth to answer that yes, of course he would.

Except he wouldn’t.

“Hellfire has a will of it’s own. It’s very dangerous. It’s not the same.”

“It is exactly the same, but you are too stubborn to acknowledge it.”

Father started driving again, gripping the wheel very hard. He was angry.

“Why are you even talking about it if you don’t intend to do anything, Aziraphale ? Why are you bringing it back up?”

The angel closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

“I do not want to fight, Crowley. I never wanted that. I was… so angry at you… I said things that were very unfair.”

Crowley’s grip loosened a little.

“Like what ?”

The angel looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“You know I never thought we were fraternizing, right ?”

Crowley made a face.

“Yeah. I know.”

“You are my friend, Crowley. I do not want you to be destroyed.”

The demon startled slightly at that declaration. He knew that of course, but it was the first time Aziraphale had said it. The angel was so scared someone could hear them that he denied it every time someone called them friends. That was new. That was good to hear, if he was honest with himself. Knowing something and hearing it were two different things.

“I won’t be destroyed.”

Aziraphale looked out the window without answering to that. Crowley thought for a moment. How would he react in the angel’s place? Well… not good, if he was really honest. Aziraphale asking him for Hellfire ? Really asking for it ? _No way_.

“Listen. I won’t ask you again. Let’s pretend I never did, kay ?”

“Agreed” answered the angel softly. But Bentley knew he didn’t intend to stop thinking about it. And that was a good thing, because she knew Father wouldn't stop thinking about it either.

She softened the angel’s seat. Maybe… maybe, for once, Father had been wrong. The angel may not be such a bad friend after all.

They drove slowly through London’s streets, and Father looked at his passenger questioningly.

“You… wanna go to your bookshop ?”

“Yes, if it is not an imposition.”

“T’s not. No trouble...”

The demon seemed to ponder.

“What is it, Crowley ?”

“Nothing ! Just… don’t wanna go… to the east end ? I mean…this stupid nazi said that's where the bombs will land tonight... figured you would want to... help ? Miracle some broken bones..."

“No, thank you for the offer, but am going to the bookshop.”

“Kay.”

Bentley didn’t understand what was happening exactly, but her demon seemed to know.

Crowley fidgeted with the wheel, trying to keep silent. That didn’t work.

“They told you not to interfere, right ? Frivolous miracles again ?”

Aziraphale closed his eyes.

“Yes. I am not allowed to help. Humans have to get through this war by themselves. Gabriel says it is a good way to test their faith.”

“Shit” mumbled the demon. “So helping in bombing is frivolous too, now ?”

“Apparently” responded the angel in a strange voice.

Crowley slid him a glance.

“Is that why you were acting like a very bad spy ? Trying to do something without, you know, going against orders ?”

“I wasn’t that bad !”

“You were ! You almost got shot ! How on earth is that good spying ?”

The angel pouted. Father suddenly felt worried.

“They won’t punish you for the miracle ?”

“I doubt it. I’ll say I was trying to save a church if they ask. Saving churches is not forbidden. Only saving lives” added the angel with a tired voice.

Crowley looked at him again.

“Hey, angel. Why don’t we get wasted ?”

Aziraphale smiled slightly.

“Excellent suggestion, my dear.”

Bentley parked sagely in front of an old building. She felt it Look at her. It seemed happy to see Father. 

Neither demon nor angel seemed eager to get out. The angel was fidgeting with his cufflinks.

“Crowley… I wanted to… I mean… thank you.”

Father huffed.

“Shuttup. Not that big a deal.”

“No, not about the church.”

“What now ? The lift ? Don’t thank me for that, stupid.”

Aziraphale sighed.

“No, not that ! It’s not… I mean, thank you… for coming back.” the end of the sentence was only a whisper, and Bentley wasn’t sure if Father heard it.

But he did.

“Yeah. Okay. Um… wine ?”

“Yes, of course ! I will prepare it !” 

The angel almost ran to the bookshop, and Father stayed at the wheel for a minute, staring at the door to the building.

“What is wrong with me, Baby ? Why can’t I just say… something cool ? Like _I’ll always come back_ ? Or _I missed you too_? Or just _You’re not alone, you stupid angel_ ! But nooooo, I’m so smooth, I have to say _Okay_. _Okay_ ! We didn’t talk for 79 years, he thought I’ll never come back, and I say _Yeah. Okay._ Flames !”

He bumped his head repeatedly against the wheel.

“I. am. so. Stupid !”

Bentley quite agreed with Father. He was stupid. The angel was not a bad friend. He loved Father too, just like her, and she had to be nice to him now.

Father finally entered the shop after yelling at himself a lot, and she waited. After a few hours, Aziraphale came out and leaned his back against her to smoke a cigarette. Then he carefully extinguished it, and patted her hood in a friendly way, calling her a _good girl_. The angel was feeling very happy about Father's return, and very sad about all the humans suffering that he was not allowed to help. She felt tears dropping on her wind-shield. Then the angel straightened again, put a smile on his face, and headed back in the shop.

Angels and demons were, decided Bentley, very weird people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be The Thermos !!  
> Ahhh... the thermos... I so LOVE that scene...


	3. The Thermos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or what happened exactly that night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the thermos story. These two are saying so much without even talking ! It was very amusing to write this chapter. I love Aziraphale's tartan too, and we have an explanation as to WHY angels are making jokes about Principality, and why they have so much contempt for Aziraphale. Stupid Archangels...

**1967**

She knew Father was up to no good. Usually it always led to fun, but right now it was not funny at all. She was very worried. Father planned to have Holy Water. At any cost.

She had to do something ! But how ? Father wouldn’t listen to her…

He would listen to the angel, but she couldn't warn Aziraphale. so she assisted in the preparation of the caper in rising concern. Father drove a lot to meet people, to gather a team able to get into a church and... steal Holy Water. she was terrified. And then, as her demon came back from his last reunion... she felt her angelic friend appear on the passenger seat.

“What are you doing here ?” asked Father in astonishment.

The angel never appeared in Bentley. It was the first time he did this. It was not polite to appear in other people’s car, and Aziraphale was always polite.

She felt her fair friend’s resignation. He was sad. The angel was very sad, and Bentley didn’t like it. He was supposed to be angry ! He was supposed to stop father, to yell at him ! She had the feeling there wouldn’t be any yelling.

“I need a word with you” answered Aziraphale in a slightly subdued voice.

Father’s surprise turned into slight concern.

“What ?”

The angel had a whole speech prepared. She sensed he’d repeated it in front of his mirror. Oh no… Aziraphale was letting her down ! He wouldn’t stop Father ! He was here to help him !

Traitor ! Bad angel, not wanting to stop Father any more ! This was too dangerous, he’d said it ! Bentley opened the glove box, hitting the angel’s knees hard. He didn’t seem to feel it.

 _Don’t let me down_ thought Bentley desperately. They were a team, both of them wanting to protect their demon at all cost. And now… now angel was stopping ? How could he ?

“I live in Soho. I hear things. I hear that you’re setting up a… caper. To rob a church.” The angel’s trepidation was quickly rising “Crowley it’s too dangerous… Holy Water won’t just kill your body, it will destroy you completely !”

Crowley felt angry, but it wasn’t a great anger. Just slightly more than annoyance. He already knew what the angel thought of this Holy Water thing, and understood his point.

“You told me what you think. 105 years ago.”

“And I haven’t change my mind...” the angel hesitated a second, and Bentley hopped he would come back to reason… hope was in vain. “...But I can’t have you risking your life. Not even for something dangerous. So...” and then Aziraphale retrieved the _thing_ hidden in his coat “you can call off the robbery.”

He handed Father a thermos (Bentley knew thermoses. She saw a lot of things in the street).

It was a strange thermos, though. She Looked at it, reached for it, felt it… and suddenly a great peace came over her. The angel was still her friend. They were still both on the same team, protecting Father and helping him. And her demon would certainly be cautious in his use of Holy Water if he had to take it from _that_...

“Don’t go unscrewing the cap” warned Aziraphale in a sad tone. Father took it with careful motions, and Bentley felt the angel’s heart break when the thermos left his hands. Father didn’t pay attention. He couldn’t sense every feeling like she did, and he wasn’t looking at his friend’s face. He stared only at the thermos, and a lot of emotions washed over him. Greed, relief, surprise, and finally disbelief.

“It’s the real thing?” he asked.

Bentley could have slapped him for uttering that sentence. But the angel didn’t feel insulted.

“The Holiest” he only answered.

Crowley finally stopped examining the thermos and looked at Aziraphale.

“After everything you said?”

The angel only nodded, not looking at him. Father wasn’t good at gratitude. That was, he had told Bentley, something you quickly learned to forget Down There. Gratitude was a sign of weakness. He tried his best not to utter it when he felt it. Except… this was something big.

“Should I say thank you?”

“Better not.”

And finally, the demon saw how sad and wretched his friend truly felt. Bentley sensed his guilt. Not enough for him to hand back the Holy Water, but enough to want to do something, anything, to soothe the angel.

“Can I… drop you anywhere?”

“No, thank you.”

Father made a face. Aziraphale, because he was so nice, felt obligated to cheer him up.

“Oh don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could… go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.”

The three of them knew this could never happen. Being seen together was dangerous. Benches, secret, isolated spots or safe places like the Bookshop or Bentley herself were the only places they could talk without much risks.

“I’ll give you a lift” insisted Father “anywhere you want to go.”

But the angel couldn’t stand the vision of his best, his only friend, honestly, holding the means to his annihilation. And it was unfair that Father didn't understand. He wasn’t even trying to, she knew it. Father had more than enough imagination to picture Aziraphale holding Hellfire in his hands, had he wanted to.

“You go too fast for me, Crowley” murmured the angel as an excuse before heading out, stroking Bentley lightly as he always did. She tried to reach for him but he was already walking away, not turning back. He didn’t have his usual spring in his step, and that was sad.

Father looked at Aziraphale’s retreating back, then back at the thermos in wonder. That’s when he saw what Bentley had seen since the beginning. He’d been so captivated by what was _inside_ that he didn’t look properly at the actual thing.

Father stopped breathing, his eyes getting huge behind his sunglasses. This was…

“Shit… that’s… that’s a bloody _tartan_ thermos ! that’s _his_ _tartan_ , Girl ! Aziraphale gave me…”

She perfectly knew what Aziraphale had given.

* * *

**Seventeen years ago, 1950, Third alternative rendezvous.**

Father stopped the car just near the bandstand and the angel got in, using a small miracle to prevent any drop of rain to get in. He was always considerate of Bentley.

“Dreadful weather...”

“Well, that’s England. If you wanted warmth, you shouldn’t have bought your bookshop here” grumbled Father, who had been in an awful mood all day.

Aziraphale looked at him, hummed lightly, and waited. He knew their demon well. Father could never stay silent for long.

After a minute, the red haired exploded.

“They don’t even care !”

The angel blinked in confusion, then tilted his head.

“Hell ?”

“They don’t care ! I’ve pushed hundreds of humans to get angry in a few hours, and they don’t even care, angel !”

“Oh ! That is very inconsiderate of them. You are doing a marvellous job, in my opinion. That awful law that was voted last week will ruin more than one human’s peace of mind. I had to work a lot of miracles to counterbalance it !”

Father nodded, a little comforted.

“Exactly ! That’s exactly that, I’ve put days into that particular caper. Days, angel ! I didn’t even sleep !”

“Oh, you poor boy… you shouldn’t do that, you need sleep to feel at ease. I just can not believe you didn’t get a commendation for that one. Heaven was very cross, let me tell you.”

Crowley’s head snapped to attention.

“Did they give you a hard time ?”

“No, do not worry. But they were most displeased. Gabriel was seething. He asked me to try to smite you.”

Crowley’s smile spread slowly on his face.

“Really ?”

“Oh yes. He thinks some decades without you on earth would earn my side heaps of souls.”

Crowley was grinning now.

“Did he now ? Well… at least your bosses are considerate of my job. How are you supposed to smite me, exactly ?”

“Oh… he still thinks I have my sword… apparently the Almighty didn’t… inform the Archangels about it after speaking with me.”

Father let out a non-committal noise, not wanting to talk about Her.

“Did they really think Hell is that sloppy, though ?”

“Whatever do you mean, my dear ?”

“Decades without me ? They think getting a new corporation would take that long ?”

The angel frowned a little.

“Well, the paperwork… there is a dreadful lot...”

“Yeah, course, but it would take months, at worst...” Father trailed of as he watched the angel’s expression “It… takes longer for you ?”

Aziraphale was making that face, the one he always put on when he tried to defend Heaven.

“It… there is a lot going on Up There, you know !”

Crowley back-pedalled.

“Yeah, I’m sure...”

“And they have lots of prayers to sort. Lots !”

“That’s right. We don’t have much of that Downstairs...”

“Exactly ! And… and...” like every time Crowley didn’t try to insult Heaven (which was almost never), Aziraphale’s anger deflated.

“...And they do not care about Humanity that much, you know it. A few decades do not make that great a difference for them.”

“How many ?”

“Beg your pardon ?”

Crowley huffed in annoyance “How many decades ? Two ? Three ? How long would it take, were you discorporated ? How long did it take last time ?”

Aziraphale blushed slightly “I… do not know. I tried my best never to… get discorporated.”

Crowley raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Had he been a little less concerned, he would have talked about at least the Bastille.

“What, never? Really?”

“I do not have your eyes, Crowley. Passing for a human is way easier for me.”

Crowley, who’d been discorporated by surprise three times before the invention of sunglasses, nodded. Time to lighten the mood. He never liked serious conversation.

“Ha… yeah… well, at least if it happens you could wear all the tartan you like for years.”

Aziraphale grimaced “Certainly not. Heaven’s tartan is awful.”

“Ha ! You wear it all the time!”

“I certainly do not!” Aziraphale looked cross, and the demon took a second to ponder. That, thought Bentley, was probably a wise move.

“Uh… but, you… you have some, right here...”

The angel blinked down at his necktie, and an amused smile tugged at his lips.

“This is not Heaven tartan. This is mine.”

“Wh… what do you mean, yours?”

“It is mine. I commissioned it. I designed the pattern. My tartan. Nobody else can wear it, I made sure of it.”

Father was speechless. That was a first.

“Do not look at me like that, Crowley, I said I created my own tartan, not that I planned to assassinate the king.”

“Why? Why did you do that, your own…”

“Really, it is not that extraordinary. I wanted something… angelic, but that would be mine. So I designed and claimed it.”

“WHAT ? You claimed it? In Heaven?”

Aziraphale nodded calmly.

“Are you insane? How did you do that? What did they say?”

“Nothing, really. They couldn’t refuse. I register it as Principalities brand, after all. Not only mine.”

Crowley’s shock turned to amusement.

“Xcept you’re the only Principality.”

“Well, I have nothing to do with that.”

By that time, Bentley knew already that Aziraphale was the last Principality in the universe. Father had told her how their angel was the only one that still wanted to guide and protect Humanity after their little mishap over the apple. Every other Principality (a rank created just after Humanity, and that some angels volunteered to take) had been given the choice to come back to their former post, and had accepted the offer, refusing to lay eyes on creatures that had made God angry. Every one of them but Aziraphale. They still made fun of him Up there. A Cherub _choosing_ demotion to watch after God’s greatest disappointment.

The demon laughed “Oh, damn, Aziraphale! You’re such a bastard sometimes! Is that why you put it everywhere into your bookshop? Your own piece of Heaven on earth?”

“I didn’t put it _everywhere_ ” the angel pouted.

“Throw blankets, couch, curtains...”

“Well, yes… but they wanted to give it to Michael!”

“Uh?”

“The bookshop! The opening? When you brought me chocolate, remember? They wanted me to come back Up and have Michael take my place. In _MY_ bookshop! So… I...”

“You marked it as your own. The lair of the one and only member of the select clan of Aziraphale” laughed the demon, quite impressed.

* * *

Years later, Crowley blinked at a thermos, wondering what it meant exactly. Was he marking Crowley as his own, as he had his bookshop? (No way, the angel hated nothing more than someone claiming possession over someone else, even in the slightest way).

He thought of the book he’d read about Scotland’s traditions, decades ago.

“ _Only the chief of a clan or a family can allow a stranger to wear their tartan, and become one of them.”_

Father smiled, touched. So that was it. Aziraphale had made him a member of his Clan. Let’s hope he wasn’t considered a Principality then. His pride would never recover.

It meant he couldn’t use this Holy Water lightly, because _Aziraphale_ gave it to him. And the slightest accident would have the angel tortured by guilt until the end of times. An angel that considered him more as family than he did his actual brothers in Heaven.

Bentley, following his thoughts, roared in approval.

“Yeah. You’re right. We’re on our own side. That’s what he means.”

And Bentley, who could read the angel’s thoughts as easily as her demon’s, knew it was exactly that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be about Baby Adam and his first ride with Bentley !


	4. The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the world is there. So is fire.  
> Bentley will learn another feeling, one that is not welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo sorry for the delay ! This chapter was hard to write, and I can't thank megzseattle enough for her support !  
> Next chapter will be out in a few hours. It is an easy one, since it will mostly will be my Bentley chapter from Whumptober (but not only).  
> Thank you for your patience !

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit ! WHY ME ?” yelled father, driving as fast as he ever did. Bentley sensed something was wrong, but she couldn’t understand what exactly.

On her back-seat, something was breathing. It was something warm and evil and pure. She loved warmth, evil was of course a good thing, and purity reminded her of Aziraphale.

Father’s boss spoke through her radio. She hated when it happened, and she knew her demon hated it too. She reached out for the basket, and tickled the Thing in it until it stopped crying and laughed. She felt Love blooming in her hood. The little thing made happy noises, and she made her back-seat warm for it.

The three of them headed to the countryside, and Father took the little Warm-Evil-Pure thing with him. When he came back, he was alone. Bentley felt something she’d never felt before.

It was an awful feeling, and she wanted to stay here, to stare at the building, and to wait until the little thing got back to her. But Father drove away, and she felt like something was breaking inside her, and that was strange, because she was still working perfectly. Nothing was wrong with any bit of her, and still, there was something broken, a little crack somewhere inside of her.

* * *

It happened again, this time with the angel. The day was fun at first, she’d brought father and Aziraphale to the little town, right where they’d left the little devilish thing many years ago, and she hoped that maybe they would finally see it again and take it back with them. But then a stupid human (all humans were stupid, had explained Father to her once. She quite agreed with him on that, even if the angel didn’t) bumped into her with a bicycle and hurt her. Father healed her right away of course, so it was fine, and the angel… the angel offered her a tartan bike rack to console her, and that made her _very_ happy. He had offered his tartan to Father years ago, and she had never dreamed to get some herself. And now… she was one of them now ! She was part of the clan !

The human got in. Bentley had never had any passenger besides Aziraphale, and he always sat in front with Father. This was new. This was… strange. But she was too happy about the tartan to really bother with it.

She felt the book escape the human’s bag and tumble under one the seat, and knew it had done it on purpose. But she wouldn’t snitch on it. The bookshop had taught her that sentient objects should stick together. If the book wanted to hide itself, she certainly was ready to help.

Then they left the human somewhere with her bike and the book stayed firmly in Bentley. That was probably for the best, as it was an old and smart book, and only Aziraphale should be allowed to touch old and smart books. They drove to a diner, and the angel snapped the tartan bike rack off, and that was... really sad. So he didn’t really want her to be part of his family, then ? Was it just to carry the bike ? That strange something inside her broke again, a little louder this time. It made another crack, a larger one, and she wondered if cars could cry.

She wanted to be part of the angel’s clan too…

She sighed and waited, thinking of the bike rack, and trying to talk to the book, but it didn’t want to answer. She tried to figure out what exactly was the end of the world, but she couldn’t understand. She knew she was not very smart for a car. Maybe Aziraphale didn’t want a stupid car in his clan after all.

Father and the angel came back from their meal, and Father looked at her in worry, feeling that something was wrong. He cocked his head and circled her, trying to see if that reckless human and her bike had hurt her somewhere else. Then she sensed Aziraphale reach out for her, a question in his ethereal energy, and he seemed to understand (of course he did, he always understood her when she was sad) then he let out a little “Oh ! So sorry, dear girl” and made a biscuit tin appear on the backseat, with his tartan on it.

Father half-heartedly grumbled some protest, but got in without removing the tin.

Bentley realised with surprise that the crack wasn’t there any more. She was warm, and happy, and content, and she felt loved again. Maybe the angel didn’t _give_ her the tartan bike rack at all, but he had made that tin for her only. The angel was the best angel ever, and he loved her !

They got back to the bookshop, and Aziraphale saw and took the book before leaving them. Of course he did, she had pushed it from under the seat for him to see. That was a good gift, right ? Aziraphale loved old books ! He would take care of it.

And that was the end of all good things. When the angel entered his shop, Bentley didn’t know it was the last time in this life she would be so happy. Things were coming, awful things, and she couldn’t do shit about it, as Father would say.

* * *

The third time she felt it was the worst of all.

First, Father and Aziraphale had an argument.

She knew that was never a good thing. They hadn’t spoken to each other in decades when Father had adopted her, and he was in a very bad mood for all this time. Of course she didn’t know at first, she just realised after, when the angel was back in Father’s life, that her demon was completely different when they were not arguing.

“Don’t even like me ? Don’t even _like_ me ? What is that stupid angel thinking of ? He’s lying, and I can’t see WHY ! Shitty Principality, not even wanting to save his own ridiculous life ! He can’t help the humans now ! It’s over ! Why can’t he… just… leave them, for fuck’s sake !”

Well… she knew why. The angel was a Principality, it was his purpose, to stay with the humans and help them… she didn’t understand how Father couldn’t remember that, since he was the one who explained that to her decades ago.

Father’s rambling continued after he left his apartment a few hours later. He was still furious.

“Thinking that they will listen to him… God doesn’t listen ! And them… Up and Below, they all want it to happen ! He’ll just… stay there, and die calmly alongside these stupid apes, just because She told him to LOVE them ! What good will it do ? Mmm ? What will it change ? Fuck !”

Apparently the end of the world meant Father had to go see a movie. It didn’t seem to calm him at all. He drove directly to the bookshop, which was a good idea, in Bentley’s opinion, but the angel didn’t want to follow Father any more, even if Father did apologise. Well… just before he insulted him by telling him he was stupid. Bentley gasped inwardly. Aziraphale was not stupid ! That was just mean ! Why were they even arguing ? Why was the angel turning away ? Why didn’t Father run after him ? She didn’t understand a thing.

Then they left the angel there. Bentley didn’t really want to go, but Father was furious and sad and scared, and she was a little too, so she let him drive away. She felt the angel’s stare burn her, and his pain and loneliness hurt. He really thought Father was going away for good. She knew better. They would come back, she knew it, and Aziraphale would come with them next time, and they would have a nice picnic once Earth would be safe.

She didn’t know. Had she known, she would never have let Father drive. But they left the angel there, to burn.

She didn’t wait long outside Father’s apartment this time. She felt it, and it wasn’t like a blow, just like a statement. Aziraphale was there, somewhere. Then he wasn’t. She had never felt that before. Even when Father or the angel went to that building to report, she could feel them in a way. But not this time.

The crack was there again, and it was larger than ever, and it wouldn’t stop cracking.

Father ran to her, and drove furiously toward the bookshop. She knew he’d felt it too. He tried to call Aziraphale, but nobody answered, and then… they saw it.

No need to be a sentient car to know this was the end of the world. The end of Father’s world, at least. That something with the crack in it broke completely as she watched the bookshop burn. The building was suffering, she could feel its sadness and anger and despair. The angel had been there, and then… something had destroyed him. She looked at the men on the street that were trying to stop the fire, and roared at them to _go away_. The bookshop didn’t want to be saved now, couldn’t they just let him go !

Father came back and she said her farewell to her old friend. There was nothing left to break inside her, but still, she felt it again. The angel was gone. She couldn’t believe it, but Father’s feelings were the same. Her demon was breaking inside, a long, constant crumbling.

They drove through London, a smoking book in Aziraphale’s place on the passenger seat. It was The Book, she felt it. The sentient one. She should have sent him angry thoughts for not protecting the angel, but she felt too sad to be angry. She was crying along with Father’s heart. She had loved their angel, and there would never be light any more. She really hoped the world was ending, because no human deserved to live after letting their angel get killed.

“I need a drink.” mumbled Father, parking her haphazardly in front of a pub.

She really wanted one too, it seemed to help a lot.

Father stayed there, his hands on the wheel, looking straight ahead.

“It’s not a good time...”

She wondered if he was talking about the drink.

“Last thing I told him was _It’s not a good time_ … and I hung up on him.”

He let his forehead hit the wheel with a thump.

“He was probably asking for _help_ … and I hung up ! I left him to deal with whoever was attacking him, and he died alone and… What if it was demons ? Did he think I betrayed him ? And then he called and I _hung up_ on him ! What did he think then ?”

Certainly not that Father had betrayed him. Bentley was sure of that, the angel would never have thought that Father had betrayed him. But her demon was too far gone to think straight. He stumbled out , reached awkwardly to take the book, clutched it to his chest, and aimed for the pub.

And she stayed there, silent to everyone, but a scream in her heart. That was it, wasn’t it ? That broken thing, it was her heart. She knew every living thing had one, but had never thought about it. It couldn’t be anything else, and she suddenly understood a lot of Queen’s song better. It was awful, it was the worst feeling in the world, and for a moment she wished she could just get rid of it…

But she didn’t want to forget about the angel’s love, and how she loved him. If forgetting that was the only way to get rid of that unbearable pain, then she would rather endure it.

* * *

The last time it happened was that same day, and it was the sweetest of all heartbreak.

She didn’t know how she was still able to drive, but she didn’t consider any other option. Father was counting on her, so was the angel (alive, the angel was alive, and that alone was enough to forget about the burning), and she had to go to Tadfield Airbase. Father had told her they had to. They had to or everything would be lost forever.

Both of them already knew _that_ feeling, thank you very much, and that was not something you wanted to feel twice in an eternity, even less in a day.

So she ignored her burning tires and her dead engine and willed them to keep going, just like Father asked her. She was a good car. She would bring him wherever he needed to go.

Maybe she would see the angel again. Father had said he would be there, and she wanted to believe him. She wanted to bring her demon to Aziraphale, so they could save everything and go on drinking and laughing and mocking each other. That was all she wanted, and that was what she would do.

So she drove through the flames without hesitation, a shiver of pleasure coursing through her as the awful Duke of Hell yelling at Father discorporated. She hoped it was painful.

And she drove again, without failing, and Father was there with her, helping and supporting, and giving her strength.

And finally they pulled over, and the angel was there. She knew it at once, even if he had changed clothes. She gathered the last of her energy to stay a little more, to see their reunion. All would be well now.

She let go with a smile, and she didn’t feel pain, only happiness. Her heart broke a little again, knowing she would never see Father again, but it was a sweet ache.

She had done it. She had brought Father where he needed to go.

She was a _good_ car.

* * *

Waking up was a surprise. She was completely whole, and she didn’t have the impression that she had been repaired. She was right outside Father’s apartment, like nothing had happened. But it had, cars didn’t dream.

She could feel Father somewhere in the city, and the angel was here, very close. Everything was fine. She had no idea how or why, but she was back, and everything was as it always had been. Her heart was whole again and full of happiness. She looked at a cat wandering in the street (cats were interesting) and with a feeling of contentment, she waited for Father to come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Crowley wasn't aware that Aziraphale was only calling to tell him about the antichrist. He was to busy talking to Hastur, then he couldn't listen to his ansaphone without releasing the Duke of Hell...  
> So... arriving to the burning bookshop ?  
> In my world, he definitely believed Aziraphale was under attack and called him for help. And that he didn't listen and let him to die. The fact that he was himself under attack is of no importance to him, he still thinks he had failed his friend.  
> Okay, he doesn't think that for long, but still. Poor demon...


	5. The Duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father receives some bad news... then there is a duck !  
> Bentley will learn doubt and despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was partly in the whumptober series (but only partly, I added a lot here).  
> It can be read without looking there, so enjoy ^^
> 
> If you want to know more about Crowley's troubles, see the end note ;)
> 
> I said I would post it in "a few hours" and it's almost been a WHOLE DAY ! I always do that ! I think I am too optimistic, please never believe me when I give an hour or date for next chapter. Do NOT trust me ! I am always, always, always late ! Usually it's not very late. If I say a day, expect two, if I say a week... a week and a half ?  
> So sorry about that... (I am my worst enemy :) )

It had started as a nice day, and Father and her were driving to meet the angel at the park, like every week.

Then Radio Ga Ga had turned into Hell’s voice, and nothing was nice anymore.

“Hello, Crowley. Since you betrayed us, we have decided to cut you from the Dark Source. Have a miserable life.”

Bentley didn’t understand what it meant, she had no idea what a source was. Whatever it was, however, that made Father stop her on the side of the road and breath heavily for a while, hands clasped on the wheel so tightly she feared he would break it.

“No… no no no no no no SHIT !”

He put his forehead on the wheel too, and she reached out to console him. Father was nether that wretched. Not since the end of the world.

He stayed a long time like that before straightening. Bentley knew there were late to see the angel, she tried to tell it to Father, but he was talking to himself, and he never listened when he talked to himself.

“Of course they had to do something like that. Bloody bastards...”

Suddenly, she felt his fear and he launched her back on the road.

“Aziraphale… what if they did the same to him ? No… can’t be. They wouldn’t _dare_ touch him… Heaven won’t cut him out. But I can’t tell him, he would… he would freak out, I have to hide it.”

He was worried, too worried to slow down. The park was almost there, and Bentley was eager to arrive, because she didn’t like Father’s currents thoughts at all. The angel would know how to soothe him, she was sure of that.

She was only starting to slow when it happened. A duck.

She knew ducks of course, Father was ridiculously fond of the ugly swimming birds. She never understood why, and she hated the things. Father was not supposed to be fond of anything besides her or their angel. Or the bookshop, of course. The bookshop tolerated Aziraphale’s love of Bentley, so obviously Father was allowed to like it.

But nothing else !

So when the baby duck carelessly started to cross the road just in front of her, she wasn’t really annoyed. Stupid thing should have looked before crossing. It was too late to stop in time, but she tried nonetheless, feeling Father’s fear. It was a baby duck, her demon had a thing for babies, and for ducks. She had to try to spare the thing, even if she didn’t care for it.

She started to brake the instant she saw it, but it was too late…

That’s when Father’s fear turned into horror, and this time she was feeling it too.

In front of her, there wasn’t a duck anymore, there was an angel, staring right back at her, and she was going to…

The impact wasn’t hard enough to really hurt her, but the sound of it, of their angel hitting the pavement, cut right through her heart. Father had done something, and she was immobile. Every other car and the humans around them were immobile too.

The angel was lying there, not moving. She stared in terror as Father crouched near him, talked to him, touched his forehead. The duck, that had been protected in Aziraphale’s arms, ran away to the park. Bentley could only stare as Father freaked out and tried a demonic miracle. She felt he was afraid it wouldn’t work.

She had done it. It was her fault.

There was golden blood on the pavement, and it was her fault !

Aziraphale moved, and sat up clumsily. He asked Father if he was all right (of course he would think of Father before himself !). Bentley didn’t really listen to them. She vaguely heard Aziraphale say he was sure she would be repaired easily, and Father yelled that he wasn’t thinking about her right now. She agreed with him totally. Of course she was not important ! The important thing was healing the angel, and getting him somewhere safe ! Not thinking of her ! She was a bad car, she had hurt the angel !

Father came to see her and he talked to her like he loved her still, and she believed him. He told her it wasn’t her fault, and that the angel was stupid (that she didn’t believe). Then he drove them to the bookshop, and parked her in her usual spot. Everything seemed to be normal...

He had left her there, asking as always that she behave and wait for him like a good girl. She was a good girl, so she waited patiently. She knew he would come back and praise her patience, and tell her she was the best in the world and that he was so proud of her. He always said that.

But Father didn’t come back.

At first she thought he was just taking more time than usual. It happened, she knew that. But even when he had things to do without her, he always took the time to come and see that she was all right, to explain why she couldn’t accompany him this time, to pet her and tell her she was the most extraordinary girl in the world, that he would always love and take care of her.

He always came back. But not this time. She waited, and waited, looking at the door. He never crossed it. The sun set, then dawn came, and he wasn’t there. She didn’t move, waiting and waiting and looking at the door all day long and when dark came again, she realised he’d left her. He was not coming back.

She understood. She’d done something awful. He said it was not her fault, he said it was an accident, but she realised now it was a lie. She didn’t want to do it, she’d rather throw herself in the Thames and drown than do  _ that _ , but she had. She had betrayed him and she was so ashamed. She deserved to be abandoned, really. She deserved to stay here forever, to slowly die and disappear.

She was a bad car.

Days and days passed by. She really didn’t know how many. She didn’t count any more. She barely noticed the lights and shadows. She just stared at the door in a daze.

Then one night, he was there. He crossed the threshold, and she could have screamed and cried and begged for him to forgive. But she couldn’t move. She felt rooted on spot. He didn’t even look at her before he walked away. She stayed there, feeling cold and empty.

He came back hours later. He went straight through the door, looking angry and upset. He didn’t even spare her a look.

She felt so wretched she didn’t notice the angel standing near her at first. But he was there, and he smiled at her, and when he touched her delicately, telling her everything was going to be fine, she could have cried in relief. He wasn’t lying, she knew it.

He told her he would bring Father back. He told her she never did anything wrong, that it was not her fault. He told her he would be right back, and asked her to wait here and to be a good girl.

She was a good girl. She waited. She knew the angel never lied. He never lied to her, at least. Never had, and never would.

He’d told her he would bring her Father back. And Father came.

Her demon stopped abruptly a few meters from the Bentley. Aziraphale put a hand on his shoulder.

“Did you drive at all since you lost your powers ?”

His powers ? Father had lost his powers ? How ? What happened ? This was horrible, they had to do something !

Father shook his head.

“Crowley. I understand you were afraid of driving in these conditions. But it was very cruel of you to leave your car all alone. You didn’t even get to speak to her.”

Father’s eyes widened.

“How do you know that ?”

“I feel despair, my dear.”

The angel turned away and crossed the street to the bookshop’s door.

“Talk to her, Crowley. I don’t feel like going out any more. I’ll pour the wine.”

Father slowly extended a hand and stroked her rooftop.

“Hey, girl. Sorry I’m late... Made you wait, eh ? I’m back now. I’ll never leave you again.”

When her demon got back to the bookshop, she knew it never had been her fault at all. Father had lost his powers, and he couldn’t drive anymore. He had explained everything. Their angel had helped him get his magic back, of course, and everything was fine again. It was not about the duck accident, it never had been. And Father still loved her. She felt guilty now for doubting him.

She waited, but this time it wasn’t a sad wait, because Father would come back, he had told her that five times before leaving her.

In the middle of the night, the angel came to her again and petted her fondly.

“You should not have suffered alone, my dear girl. I am sorry I did not felt it sooner. I was so worried about Crowley, I am afraid I could not think about much else... If you ever despair again, reach out for me.”

She couldn’t despair. Not about Father. It was betrayal, to think Father would abandon her, and she felt bad for having thought it at all. Only Bad Cars doubted their Fathers.

The angel was still listening to her, and he heard her thoughts. He smiled his special smile, the one that could melt anything.

“I know you have faith in Crowley. But it is alright to doubt sometimes. Everybody does. If it happens again, call for me, and I will remind you that your demon will always come back. I promise.”

So it was all right ? It wasn’t a sin to doubt her own Father ? (she knew about sins, her demon and angel talked about it a LOT).

He had said it was alright to doubt, and she had felt it in his heart, felt old doubts about… everything. Even the angel doubted sometimes. And he wasn’t a Bad Angel. There was nothing bad about him, because he was only good and nice (nice was a bad word, except when it came to the angel).

If even the angel could feel that, then maybe she could too. Maybe it was fine. She purred to thank her friend, and he petted her again with a chuckle.

“Sleep well, dear girl, and do not worry about Crowley. He needs to sleep a lot, but he will come back soon enough. Maybe we could go to the seaside ?”

Bentley loved the seaside. She could wait for seagulls to land on her roof and scare them by roaring very loud. It was hilarious.

She waited again, but this time it was a happy wait. Father would sleep, and then everything would be fine again, that was sure.

After all, the angel never lied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who want to see Aziraphale and Crowley's POV on these events, the "duck accident" is related in more details in Whumptober, chapter 24 (bleeding out) see here :  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/20934794/chapters/50443802
> 
> Crowley's loss of powers (and Aziraphale's intervention to get them back) are detailled in chapters 25 and 26 of same whumptober (secret injury and humiliation)
> 
> Next chapter will be something new, I still have no idea what it will be, and I can't wait to start !! Do not worry, it won't be too long :D


	6. The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bentley is driving as fast as she can to the bookshop. Her Father is in danger, and she needs their angel !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it ! I wrote a fun one ! So proud of myself^^

The angel was close, she knew it. She could always sense Aziraphale, even from the other side of the Earth, and it was strange, because when Father was away, it was a little difficult to keep track of him.

But the angel’s light ? She always knew where it was.

And right now, that radiance was in the bookshop, and Bentley was driving at break-neck speed towards it. Even Father never drove that fast in central London, but since Father _wasn’t_ here, she couldn’t care less.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it ? That was the problem : Father wasn’t here.

She didn’t know this new feeling, and she hated it.

Well… she knew _of_ it, naturally. But never first hand. Despair, that she had already felt ? Sorrow ? _Please_ , she’d lived Armageddon, and it had been anything but a nice and happy day.

But this ? This was new. If there ever was a word for “utterly terrified and at the same time raging mad” that was it.

There. Bookshop. She almost crashed into the windows in her haste, and felt the building help her stop with a touch of divine power. Bookshop was not a great talker, and he didn’t care for questioning, perfectly happy to sit there and simply exist, keeping guard over the angel’s life like it was the only thing deserving consideration (and, well… Bentley couldn’t really argue with that, as long as Father was considered part of said life). But it didn’t mean the old building couldn’t act fast when needed.

So she stopped, helped with a firm but gentle push from her friend, and started roaring in the empty street like an angry tiger.

It was one of those nights, so cold that not a soul was stupid enough to be out, even in Soho.

She was ready to roar all night if needed. Screech her tyres loudly, honk, anything. But none of that was needed. She hadn’t yelled for two seconds that the door opened and Aziraphale touched her hood, a concerned expression on his face.

“Crowley ?”

He looked on the driver’s seat, took a sharp intake of breath, then rushed to the window to look in the back seat. But there was nothing to see, and Bentley tried to reach out for the angel, to convey to him the fear and the urgency she was feeling.

That is when she felt it. Her angel’s usual softness and warmth, abruptly crystallising into something icy and unyielding.

The ethereal aura reached out, and Bentley trembled under the wave of it. There was no finesse there, this was not one of her fair friend’s carefully crafted spells, intended to attain its goal without disturbing the precious equilibrium of the world.

No, this was a rush job, meant to reached its target instantly and ready to crush anything in its wake. Every human with the slightest gift for witchcraft was probably waking up with a jolt and experiencing one Hell of a headache.

“I can’t find him...” murmured the angel with concern and a touch of surprise.

Bentley hummed slightly. She knew that. Father had tried to reach his friend already. It didn’t work.

“He is alive, I would know it otherwise,” continued Aziraphale, looking at Bentley, brow furrowed like he wasn’t entirely sure of himself and would welcome a confirmation. She switched her highlights on and off, and sent a reassuring nudge in his direction. She knew Father was alive.

Aziraphale opened her door and settled in Father’s seat.

“Alright, dear girl. Lead the way.”

Oh, and that voice, that face ? That was the angel ready to go on the rampage, and she was very relieved to know that, because Satan below, there would be a Reckoning.

The ride took the best part of twenty minutes, her passenger silent and still, which was doubly unusual. She would have welcome a gasp and a hand grabbing at the door handle for dear life. It would have been reassuring. But Aziraphale only stared blankly at the road, his thoughts crystal clear. On a normal day, the angel’s thoughts and feelings were a mess, a comforting, positive, happy mess, full of love and delight.

Tonight’s thoughts were not clustered at all.

One : _I hope Crowley isn’t hurt._

Two : _I hope we get there in time._ (And oh, it was so nice to know that the angel thought of her as a part of the rescue team.)

Three : three was not a prayer like the two first, nor a conscious thought at all. It was a boiling, bustling feeling, full of angelic wrath.

And it was fine with Bentley, who was boiling too, destruction and violence mounting as they approached their destination. She could feel Father, and her dread was dissolving bit by bit. He was fine. He was angry (that was an understatement) and a little apprehensive, but he was not in pain.

So now she could focus on one feeling alone : vengeance. And that was precisely what she was bringing.

Stupid humans shouldn’t mess with her demon.

The angel straightened brusquely as they drove past a signpost.

“Tadfield Manor ?” he murmured. Bentley only purred in answer, and kept driving round the front buildings to the back. There were the ancient ones, crumbled and covered in moss and weed, all that was left of the Hellish fire that had burned everything to the ground some eleven years ago.

When she parked sagely, her lights illuminating the old scorched walls, she felt Aziraphale hold his breath for a second, taking in the scene.

There were a lot of figures, twenty at least, all dressed in white robes, and a neat, carefully drawn circle, with a bound and blindfolded demon on his knees, right at the centre of it.

The angel took a good look at his friend and she felt his relief. Then he opened her door and stepped out, walking to the circle.

“Sir ! Do not move, stay where you are ! This is a private ceremony, and onlookers are...”

Aziraphale stepped in the circle without sparing even a glance at the young man who’d talked. As soon as his feet crossed the limit, Bentley saw Father’s shoulders slump slightly. He couldn’t use his occult powers outside of that awful binding circle, and hadn’t been able to sense the angel’s arrival, but now he knew backups were here. To the human’s eyes, the angel didn’t seem to care about their prisoner. Bentley, who knew him very well, felt him send a tendril of Grace in the demon’s direction. Crowley answered with a reassuring spark of magic.

The angel looked around to catch the eyes of the humans.

“Can I know why you gentlemen would want to torture an innocent ?”

Father groaned. Bentley rumbled quietly. That wasn’t nice, calling poor Father an innocent. The humans seemed to agree with her.

“Oh, but that creature is everything but innocent ! It is the Serpent ! We captured the Serpent, the Great Beast that doomed all of us to a life of misery ! The worst of all the demons of Inferno.” The man spoke in a dramatic tone, and all of his companions seemed to enthusiastically agree with him. Two of them even laughed, like hurting her Father was a good joke.

This time, Father huffed and rolled his eyes. (Bentley and the angel could see it even with the blindfold. Reading their demon’s expression wasn’t that difficult, not when they were used to deciphering them behind dark glasses all day long.)

Aziraphale’s concern abated a little more when he saw their demon’s overdramatic reaction.

“I am not really sure I would call him the _worst_ … he is quite gifted, I grant you that, but the _worst_? There is quite a competition downstairs, young man. He certainly is not the worst. He can not even kill a child !”

Bentley settled her tyres comfortably. This was going to be fun.

Father tried to get up, but seemed rooted to the ground. Aziraphale waved a hand distractedly and the demon was suddenly free of his bindings and blindfold. He was still kneeling, though. The humans had to have done something to restrain him like that. The angel seemed to think the same. He started walking slowly along the edge of the circle, head bent, observing the runes and sigils carefully.

“Oi, angel ! What’you doing ? You can’t say that ! Ruining my reputation like that ? What the shit ?”

“But, my dear… you are incapable of killing children. It is a simple fact. It does not mean in any way that I think you an improper demon. Only not the worst, maybe. This is all I am saying.”

“Oh, thank you ! Thank you very much ! Not the worst, well, that’s great, making my day, really. Thanks for the vote of confidence ! And here I am, repeating time and again that I think you’re the best angel of the pack, but of course you wouldn’t extend the same courtesy to me, should have known that.”

The humans seemed to understand one after the other that something in their little ceremony had gone awry. The gathered around the man that had talked, questions fusing in murmurs.

The angel tilted his head, let out a happy little hum, and shuffled his foot on a little sigil. Father jumped onto his feet with a relieved sigh.

“That’sss better.”

Aziraphale kept walking, eyeing the runes as he went, and talked in a distracted voice that was only belied by the set of his jaw.

“Are you quite all right, Crowley ?”

“Fine, angel. Perfectly tickety boo.”

“That is good to know….”

Then he nodded at another sigil and erased that one too. Father stretched with a happy groan and sauntered out of the circle.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and suddenly the humans were all in front of him. He carefully scanned their faces, one after the other. None of them could move, but all seemed terrified. And so they should, thought Bentley. Aziraphale was nice and loving, and could forgive almost anything, but hurting Father was one of the exceptions.

“Oh dear. They’re all so young. What were you trying to achieve exactly here?” Asked the angel to the mute humans. “Surely you should know that abducting and threatening someone is not legal. Taking someone’s liberty against their will is a _sin_. These are not good or selfless acts. You even took pleasure in restraining my friend. I am sorry to say that your souls are definitely not marked for Heaven.”

Father was grimacing and nervously circling his friend.

“Angel… it’s not… I mean, ah… that’s not exactly what you think it is...”

“What do you mean, not what I think ? I sensed the pleasure they were experiencing when they were watching you on your knees. They _liked_ it.”

Bentley could feel the angelic wrath building up in her fair friend. There was some smiting ready to fall on some heads, and Father felt that too, because he raised his hands in front of the angel.

“No, that’s not… I mean… they didn’t… arrrh, shit, they were acting !”

Bentley held her breath. Everything went still for a few seconds. Then Aziraphale snapped his fingers and the young humans fell to the ground in heavy sleep.

“Acting ?” asked the angel in a very calm voice.

“Aaaaah… yeah…”

Well. Father was in trouble now.

“And how exactly did you end up in an effective binding circle and surrounded by actors, pray tell ?”

“Well… they’re not really actors… And I didn’t know the circle was real ! Honest, angel, not my fault ! I just saw my name on the internet, you know, Serpent of Eden and all that, and there’s this urban legend about me appearing here and burning the convent to the ground eleven years ago, and these frat guys are using the story to scare the crap out their new recruits every year and… well, I had to come and see, it was so funny !”

“Alright” answered Aziraphale, clearly not alright at all “How did you end in that circle ?”

“Weeeeeell… they were hiring an actor to play the demon’s part. So I kind of, you know… contacted them, just to have a little fun.”

Aziraphale looked unimpressed.

“You mean you intended to go full on demonic on them, Hellfire, blazing eyes and showing your wings ? Or turning into your giant snake form ?”

“Uhhh… second one.”

The angel crossed his arms.

“What happened ?”

Father rubbed his neck with a grimace.

“It was fun at first. The guys were friendly, told me I would be hiding near, then they would start the, ah, summoning, and everyone was supposed to close their eyes for the end of the incantation so I could get inside the circle and wait for them to open their eyes. I intended to put a lot of special effects into this. A little thunder, a lot of wind, you know...”

Aziraphale eyed the words written on the ground.

“But the sigils were genuine. They were made to hold you and confine your powers to the circle.”

“Yeah...” Father wasn’t really proud of himself. Bentley could understand that. She wasn’t very proud of him either. She’d stayed parked a little way away and was waiting like her demon had asked, when suddenly his thoughts had gone from “ _I can’t wait to hear them cry_ ” to “ _What the fuck is happening ? Shit, I’m trapped !_ ”

“Why, Crowley ? Why did you walk into that thing ? You know what your name looks like in Enochian, don’t you ?”

“Oi, angel ! I’m not stupid !”

“Well, excuse me if I doubt that affirmation, but you willingly walked into a trap, my dear. What if they had Holy water ? Did you think of that ?”

Bentley did think of that. that’s why she had ran to the angel in the first place.

“I didn’t _see_ my bloody name ! They’re stupid frat guys ! They weren’t supposed to draw an _actual_ circle !”

 _Ooooooh boy_ thought Bentley.

“I see. So you stepped into it without reading the sigils. Good.”

Aziraphale shifted away from the demon, the conversation clearly over for him, and marched to the humans again, deciding to get some answers.

Father looked a little pale. That wasn’t really surprising.

“What were the chances ?” wondered Aziraphale, looking at the book opened in his lap. “That young man made a mistake in copying that sigil and actually got your name right. I do not think there is any risk of that happening again, my dear.”

“Well, that’s for sure” grumbled Father. “Now that you erased every desire of belonging to that frat from their spirits...”

“They will focus on their studies. That will do them good, I am sure.”

The end of the ride was made in silence, Father’s fingers tense around the stirring wheel, Aziraphale looking into the distance.

“Look, angel… I… I’m sorry you had to come and help me. I could have managed, you know. Wasn’t necessary.”

Father was always saying stupid things when he was stressed, thought Bentley.

“Oh. Oh, I see. I shouldn’t have come to find you when your car came to collect me in the middle of the night and I realised I couldn’t find your presence. Of course, silly me… Why worry ? I should have finished my cocoa like a normal person, right ?”

“No, I didn’t say th...”

“You know, I think the common practice when someone comes to the rescue is to thank them, but of course, I may be wrong. My way of speaking is so outdated that I must have missed quite a few things in the latest decades. Maybe gratitude isn’t used anymore nowadays and the proper thing to say to a friend coming to your aid is _I didn’t need your help_.”

“Angel, I...”

“Well, I guess I will have to let it go, since I still owe you at least two rescues, but I am still cross at you for not taking the time to read the sigils on a binding circle before entering it.”

“I know. Angel, I know, really. That was stupid of me.”

Aziraphale harrumphed and pouted all the rest of the trip. When Bentley parked in front of the bookshop, the angel stepped out and patted her hood, looking at Father.

“Well, we both deserve a nice hot cocoa.”

He opened the door to the shop and looked over his shoulder with a stern expression.

“But there will not be a single marshmallow in yours !” he added before entering.

Bentley chuckled inwardly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, I had a great time writing that one :)


	7. The picnic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a picnic, a fight and a rescue.  
> It is pure domestic fluff, to be honest ^^

Adam was at the barrier, saying goodbye to his mother and father.

Father put the child’s bag in her boot and drummed his fingers on her roof.

“Aw, come oooon angel !” he mouthed, not loud enough to be heard by humans ears. Aziraphale and Adam both looked at him, the angel’s gaze stern, the boy’s amused.

Father sighed and resigned himself to wait.

After lots and lots of talking, Adam finally stepped in, greeting Bentley with a whisper as he closed the door.

“Hey, B ! How are you ?”

Bentley loved Adam. He was one of her three favourite persons in the whole world, and the only one to always understand her. Father could read her emotions and decipher her rumbles. They could spend hours discussing, him with his voice, and her with her engine. Aziraphale sensed her most violent emotions, and the softer ones when he focused on her. He understood her by instinct, like they were connected on some level. But Adam could discuss with her without the slightest effort. They hadn’t told a soul (even if Bentley knew Father suspected something).

Dog was another thing entirely, but since he was always accompanying the child, she had to like him too.

She was never happier than when she was driving Father, Aziraphale and Adam somewhere. And today was even better ; they were going on a picnic.

Bentley knew a picnic was a special occasion. The angel had talked about it decades ago, when he had handed the thermos to Father.

A picnic was Outside, and she could be there with them. Father had promised she would. There would be sandwiches.

They drove for an hour, and stopped at the top of a cliff. Then Aziraphale tried to spread the blanket on the grass, but the wind seemed of another mind, and after five minutes the outcome of that particular fight was still uncertain.

Adam looked up at his demonic uncle in wonder.

“Shouldn’t you… help him out ?”

Father grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes. He had taken his glasses off as soon as they’d parked.

“Naaah. He wouldn’t like it.”

The Antichrist looked back at Aziraphale, whose lips were pressed in firm line, and grimaced.

“I think I will...”

Crowley caught his wrist before the boy could try to snap his fingers (he didn’t need to, but he thought the move was _cool._ Even his uncle Aziraphale looked cool while doing it).

“Don’t do that. You’ll spoil the fun !”

Adam considered the angel who was not only pressing his lips now, but frowning too.

“I don’t think uncle Z is enjoying himself...”

“Oh, but I wasn’t talking of _his_ fun, kid.”

Bentley knew Father was enjoying to watch the angel getting irritated. And this was a situation where Aziraphale could end up very irritated indeed. He was so stubborn he wouldn’t use his powers at this point. It was a question of honour for him to Get The Blanket Flat the human way.

Father smirked. Adam watched with interest. None of them seemed likely to decide to help.

Meanies.

Bentley rolled a few feet, turned a little to be just at the right place, and opened her right front door. The wind howled around it angrily. The blanket fell perfectly.

“Oh” gasped Aziraphale, who was so focused he hadn’t seen her. His eyes shot to Crowley with irritation, and that’s when he took in Bentley, right in front of him.

She felt a little ashamed. The angel seemed frustrated. Maybe Father wasn’t only joking, maybe Aziraphale didn’t want to be helped.

“Oh !” let out the angel once more, this time with a fond, warm voice “My dear girl, thank you ever so much ! You are adorable !”

Bentley purred as her angel cooed at her, and Father got to her side in a few angry strides.

“All right, all right, that’s enough ! Don’t spoil her, angel ! And you, go back to your parking place, you little traitor !”

Aziraphale gasped in outrage and put his arms on her boot protectively.

“Do not talk to her like that ! She was such a dear, helping me when _no one else_ did !”

The last sentence was accompanied by a scathing glare at Father and Adam, both of them looking back at him completely unimpressed.

“Oh come _on_ ! You didn’t want my help ! You wanted to spread that blessed blanket all by yourself, like the stupid arrogant pain in the ass you are ! And you, young girl, are in trouble ! I told Adam not to help, and I know you heard me, you backstabbing piece of scrap !”

Maybe helping hadn’t been a good idea at all. Her demon and angel loved to shout at each other, but this time was a little too heated for Bentley’s taste. She knew it was because of her. Father didn’t like at all when she sided with Aziraphale that obviously.

Well. He _had_ been mean to laugh. And she wasn’t a piece of scrap. She had been carefully put together by Margaret and Margaret would never have allowed _scrap_ in her handiwork.

She rolled away to get back to her parking spot, because she was a well behaved car who did as she was told even if her Father was a stupid mean demon.

She parked with her back to him, though. She didn’t need to be facing in any particular direction to see them, but she wanted to make sure that Father knew she was sulking.

A loud silence followed her retreat. She’d thought Aziraphale would yell again, but he very, very pointedly _looked_ at Father, raising one eyebrow, and grabbed the picnic basket to spread the food on the blanket.

He sent a little tendril of comforting Grace to Bentley. She didn’t really want to answer, but it was nice to get it.

Father stood there for a while, looking at her, then at the angel with a pleading look, but Aziraphale ignored him completely, offering sandwiches to Adam and Dog.

Adam didn’t look bothered at all by the yelling. He had known his uncles long enough not to take it seriously. He looked at Bentley from time to time, but she told him that she was fine and he let her be.

Father finally sat on the blanket with the others and started to pluck blades of grass dejectedly.

“Crowley, would you please stop torturing these poor plants ? Here, coffee.”

The demon took the warm mug a little sheepishly. Angel and demon exchanged a glance.

Adam observed them, then got on his feet and ran towards the grove at the foot of the hill.

“Come on Dog ! Let’s play catch !”

“Do stay in the vicinity, my dear !”

“’Kay !”

Father sipped his coffee, his fingers tapping his knee in a nervous stance.

“Oh, for the love of God, Crowley ! Why are you waiting to apologise ?”

“Ngk. I… wh… no, that’s…” After such a brilliant outburst of rhetoric, Father decided to use his _get out of jail_ card. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, angel.”

“Oh. Excuse me. I figured you did.”

And the angel, who was nice, but also slightly sadistic when needed, added a little milk to his tea, sighed contentedly, and opened a book on his lap. Silence fell for almost an entire minute.

“Alright !” Snapped Father. “I… I just don’t know what to _say_ !”

Aziraphale didn’t look up. “That doesn’t seem that difficult to me. Why not start with _you are not a piece of scrap_ ? That would be a good opening, in my opinion.”

Wait ? Were they talking about her ?

Father groaned and slammed his mug on the ground and the angel waved a hand to get rid of a nasty coffee stain on his picnic blanket.

“I didn’t _mean_ to say that ! You know I didn’t !”

Finally, Aziraphale closed his book and looked up.

“That mouth will be the death of you, my dear. Why do you always have to be so… antagonising ?”

“M’not ! T’s your fault !”

“Of course it is,” grumbled the angel. But Bentley sensed he was more amused than angry.

“Well, yeah ! You could have miracled that blessed blanket and none of that would have happened !”

“All right ! I promise to always miracle my picnic blankets from now on. Now go talk to your car, Crowley, before I drag you to her !”

Bentley knew the threat wasn’t serious, but Father got on his feet and came reluctantly to her side.

“Ahhhhhh… hrm… you… you know… thing is… gah...”

He looked back over his shoulder, and met steely blue eyes.

“Um… Mm...”

It was funny when Father tried to apologise to the angel, but she didn’t like it when it was for her. She purred and sent him a warm wave of love.

Father blinked furiously and patted her on the roof without a word, sending his own demonic equivalent of caring feeling.

Aziraphale sighed in exasperation.

“You two are beyond redemption.”

Father put on a wobbly smile “Well I hope so !”

“Oh, shush, you know what I meant.”

After a last caress on her boot, Father got back to the blanket. The silence was way more agreeable now.

Aziraphale finished his tea, and Father his coffee. The demon put a finger on his friend’s book. That always got the angel’s attention.

“What now, Crowley ?”

“Just wanted to say… you’re never stupid. And you’re rarely arrogant.”

“Oh… what about being a pain in the bottom ?”

Father let out a noncommital noise, and quirked an eyebrow.. Aziraphale let out a little laugh.  
“I’ll take the first two, then. Thank you.”

They called Adam for dessert, and Bentley enjoyed it immensely. Everything was back to cosy and happy. She liked that.

Of course it couldn’t last.

The angel paused half through his chocolate cake and put his spoon down.

Adam and Crowley looked at him in shock.

“Uncle Z ? Are you all right ?”

“What ? Oh, yes, of course. Tickety boo...”

He got to his feet and walked towards the edge of the cliff.

“Err, angel ? Not this way. Long fall this way. Not funny, believe me.”

Aziraphale paused to look at him coldly. He never liked that kind of jokes. Crowley found them hilarious.

The angel resumed his walking and stopped at the edge, leaning in to look.

“Crowley, dear ? Could you come here ?

“Oh, flames”, huffed Father “he’s on a bloody rescue mission.” Then he raised his voice. “Angel, I warn you, if it’s another cat, give it to the local shelter and leave it there !”

“It is not a cat, Crowley.”

Father let out a long suffering groan, and stood up to follow Adam, who was already running to join Aziraphale.

“Oooooh ! How did you know it was there, uncle Z ?”

“Despair. I can feel it. I guess the poor thing was unconscious until then.”

Father got to the edge and looked down.

“No. Nope. No way, Aziraphale. I am not doing this ! Leave it there, you can’t do a thing !”

“Crowley ! I can not leave that poor creature to die !”

Bentley really wanted to see, but the edge of a cliff wasn’t a place for a car. She was pretty sure Father would freak out if she tried to get near.

Aziraphale started undressing, carefully folding his overcoat, then his jacket.

“What in the nine circles of Hell are you doing, angel ?”

“I am going down, of course.”

“What ? No ! It’s too dangerous !”

“Oh, pish posh ! I have wings, you overdramatic worrier.”

Father spluttered a moment. Adam’s giggling was obviously not helping.

“You don’t need to do that ! Miracle it here !”

“I can not ! He is hurt and terrified. A miracle could kill him, deer are prone to heart failure.”

Father let out a sight that sounded like a surrender.

“Okay. Fine. You won. I’ll do it, stupid angel !”

But the angel was already folding his waistcoat on top of his other clothes. Bentley thought she had never seen him in such a state of undress. A shirt and trousers ? He was probably going to get sick.

“No, I have to do it myself. The poor thing is afraid, and needs reassurance.”

“Then use those blasted wings of yours !”

“Oh yes, what an excellent idea, appearing like a giant bird of prey will definitely not frighten him.” Answered the angel sarcastically.

“Azzzziraphaaaaaale...”

“Crowwwwwleyyyyy...” answered the angel teasingly, starting to climb down.

“Not funny, angel ! Not funny at all ! Watch out, there’s moss, you’ll slip ! Don’t… left foot, _left foot_ !”

“For the love of God, Crowley, just shut up ! Follow Adam’s example, he is perfectly calm.”

“If you die, can I have the bookshop, uncle Z ?”

“That’s not funny, kid ! Don’t joke about that ! You’ll jinx him !”

“What’s a jinx ?”

Then the angel’s soothing voice, a little muffled, started talking in an unknown language. Bentley couldn’t understand a word, but it was warm and comforting, and it filled her with a sense of safety and love.

Aziraphale appeared next to the blanket, crouched near a strange animal who looked like a little, brown cow. The angel was touching it and speaking still, and she felt the gentle rush of a healing. The thing closed its eyes and fell asleep.

“Oh, great. Why did you put it to sleep ?”

“ _He_ is exhausted. He needs rest. I will restore a little of his energy in a while, but for the time being, sleep is best for him.”

“He’s awesome ! Can I have him, uncle Aziraphale ?”

“Out of the question.”

“Come on, I’ll take good care of him. I take care of Dog !”

Dog barked his approval.

“No, Adam. He is a wild animal. You cannot deprive him of his freedom.”

“Well, he won’t have it for long if he’s stupid enough to fall from a cliff.” Said Father with a grin.

“There’s no cliff in Tadfield, uncle Z. Pleeeeaaaase ?”

“I said no.”

“Come on, that’s just a little deer. I’m sure I can convince Arthur and Deirdre to take it.” Supplied Father, his grin widening.

“ _Him_. And I am certain you can. You could sell sand to a camel. The answer is still no. You will both have to bear the disappointment.”

Bentley was entirely on the angel’s side. That thing was covered in mud. She refused to drive it to Tadfield.

Father dropped on the blanket, and helped himself to more coffee while Adam patted the sleeping deer.

“That’s mean, angel. It’s our Godson we’re talking about. We can’t disappoint our Godson.”

“I am sure an extra piece of cake will help heal his broken heart. Chocolate or strawberry, dearest ?”

“Can I have both ?”

“Of course, you can. Here you go.”

“Thanks, uncle Z !”

The angel put back his waistcoat and jacket and took up his plate and spoon again with a contented sigh. Father sprawled on the blanket and closed his eyes, slowly drifting to sleep. Adam gave another sandwich to Dog under Aziraphale’s indulgent gaze.

Bentley looked at them, and her heart felt full. This was a perfect day, and a perfect picnic. There would be, she was convinced, many, many more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your nice comments on this story !  
> I loved writing this conclusion, and I hope you'll love it too !!


End file.
